The Protector

Once more, without clearly intending it, he had stirred the girl. He had not spoken in that rather fanciful style to impress her; she thought he had, trusting in her comprehension, merely given his ideas free rein. But in doing so he had somehow made her hear the clear trumpet-call to action, which, for such men, rings through the roar of the river and the song of the tall black pines.

“Ah!” she said, “I dare say it’s a fine life in many ways, but it must have its drawbacks. The flesh must shrink from them.”

“The flesh?” he said and laughed. “In this land it takes second place – except, perhaps, in the cities.” Then he turned and looked at her curiously. “Why should you talk of shrinking? The bush couldn’t daunt you; you have courage.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled, but it was not at the compliment. His words rang with freedom, the freedom of the heights, where heroic effort was the rule in place of luxury. She longed now, as she had often done, to escape from bondage, to break away.

“Ah, well,” she said, half-wistfully, “I expect it’s fortunate that such courage as I have may never be put to the test.”

Though reticence was difficult, Vane made no comment. He had spoken unguardedly already, and he had decided that caution was desirable. As it happened, an automobile came up when he restarted his team, and he looked round as he drove on again.

“It’s curious that I never heard the thing,” he said.

“I didn’t either,” said Evelyn, and added, as if any explanation were needed: “I was too engrossed in the trees. But I think Miss Horsfield was in it.”

“Was she?” said Vane in a very casual manner, and Evelyn, for no reason that she was willing to admit, was pleased.

She had not been mistaken. Jessie Horsfield was in the automobile, and she had had a few moments in which to study Vane and his companion. The man’s look and the girl’s expression had struck her as significant; and her lips set ominously tight as the car sped on. She felt she almost hated Vane, and there was no doubt that she entirely hated the girl at his side.

CHAPTER XXIV – JESSIE STRIKES

It was the afternoon before Vane’s departure for the north, and Evelyn, sitting alone for the time being in Mrs. Nairn’s drawing-room, felt disturbed by the thought of it. She sympathised with his object, but she supposed there was a certain risk attached to the journey, and that troubled her. In addition to this there was another point on which she was not altogether pleased. She had twice seen Vane acknowledge a bow from a very pretty girl whose general appearance suggested that she did not belong to Evelyn’s own walk of life, and that very morning she had noticed him crossing a street in the young woman’s company. Vane, as it happened, had met Kitty Blake by accident and had asked her to accompany him on a visit to Celia.

Evelyn did not think she was of a jealous disposition, and jealousy appeared irrational in the case of a man whom she had dismissed as a suitor; but the thing rankled in her mind. While she considered it, Jessie Horsfield entered the room.

“I’m here by invitation, to join Vane’s other old friends in giving him a good send-off,” she explained.

Evelyn noticed that Jessie laid some stress upon her acquaintance with Vane, and wondered if she had any motive for doing so.

“I suppose you have known him for some time,” she said.

“Oh, yes,” was the careless answer. “My brother was one of the first to take him up when he came to Vancouver.”

The phrase jarred on Evelyn. It savoured of patronage; besides, she did not like to think that Vane owed anything to the Horsfields.

“Though I don’t know much about it, I understood they were opposed to each other,” she said coldly.

“Their business interests don’t coincide; but it doesn’t follow that they should disagree about anything else. My brother did all he could to dissuade Vane from going on with his search for the timber until the winter was over.”

“I think it is rather fine of him to persist in it,” Evelyn declared.

Jessie smiled, though she felt venomous just then. “Yes,” she agreed; “one undoubtedly feels that. Besides, the thing’s so characteristic of him; the man’s impulsively generous and not easily daunted. He possesses many of the rudimentary virtues, as well as some of the corresponding weaknesses, which is very much what one would look for.”

“What do you mean by that?” Evelyn inquired, suppressing her resentment. Though she was not prepared to pose as Vane’s advocate, she was conscious of a growing antagonism against her companion.

“It’s difficult to explain, and I don’t know that the subject’s worth discussing,” said Jessie. “However, what I think I meant was this – Vane’s of a type that’s not uncommon in the West, and it’s a type one finds interesting. He’s forcibly elementary, which is the only way I can express it; the restraints the rest of us submit to don’t bind him; he breaks through them.”

This, so Evelyn fancied, was more or less correct. Indeed, the man’s disregard of hampering customs had pleased her, but she allowed that some restraints were needful. As it happened, her companion followed up the same train of thought.

“When one breaks down or gets over fences, it’s necessary to discriminate,” she went on lightly. “Men of the Berserker type, however, are more addicted to going straight through the lot. In a way, they’re consistent – having smashed one barrier, why should they respect the next?”

Jessie, as she was quite aware, was playing a dangerous game; one that might afterwards be exposed. Still, the latter possibility was of less account because detection would come too late if she were successful. She was acquainted with the salient points of Evelyn’s character.

“They’re consistent, if not always very logical,” she concluded after a pause. “One endeavours to make allowances for men of that description.”

Something in her tone roused Evelyn to sudden imperious anger. It was intolerable that this woman should offer excuses for Vane.

“What particular allowances do you feel it needful to make in Mr. Vane’s case?” she asked.

Now she was faced by the direct question, Jessie hesitated. As a rule, she was subtle, but she could be ruthlessly frank, and she was possessed by a hatred of the girl beside her.

“You have forced me to an explanation,” she expostulated. “The fact is that while he has a room at the hotel he has an – establishment – in a different neighbourhood. Unfortunately, what you could best describe as a Latin quarter is a feature of some Western towns.”

It was a shock to Evelyn; one she found it hard to face, though she was not convinced. The last piece of information agreed with something Mrs. Nairn had told her; but although she had on one occasion had the testimony of her eyes in support of it, Jessie’s first statement sounded incredible.

“It’s impossible,” she declared.

Jessie smiled in a bitter manner. “It’s unpleasant, but it can’t be denied. He undoubtedly pays the rent of a shack in the neighbourhood I mentioned.”

Evelyn sat tensely still for a moment or two. She dared not give rein to her feelings, she would not betray herself; but composure was extremely difficult.

“If that is so, how is it that he is received everywhere – at your house and by Mrs. Nairn?” she asked.

Jessie shrugged her shoulders. “People in general are the more or less charitable in the case of a successful man. Apart from that, Mr. Vane has a good many excellent qualities. As I said, one has to make allowances.”

Just then, to Evelyn’s relief, Mrs. Nairn came in, and though the girl suffered during the time, it was half an hour before she could find an excuse for slipping away alone. Then, sitting in the gathering darkness, in her own room, she set herself to consider, as dispassionately as possible, what she had heard. It was exceedingly difficult to believe the charge; but Jessie’s assertion was definite enough, and one which, if incorrect, could be readily disproved. Nobody would say such a thing unless it could be substantiated, and that led Evelyn to consider why Jessie had given her the information. She had obviously done so with at least a trace of malice; but this could hardly have sprung from jealousy, because Evelyn could not think that a woman would vilify a man for whom she had any tenderness. Besides, she had seen Vane entering the part of the town indicated, where he could not have had any legitimate business. Hateful as the suspicion was, it could not be contemptuously dismissed. Then she granted that she had no right to censure the man; he was not accountable to her for his conduct; but calm reasoning carried her no farther. She was once more filled with intolerable disgust and burning indignation. Somehow she had come to believe in Vane, and he had turned out an impostor.

It was about an hour later when Vane and Carroll entered the house with Nairn and proceeded to the latter’s room, where he offered them cigars.

“So ye’re all ready to sail the morn?” he said.

Vane, who nodded, handed him some papers. “There’s your authority to act in my name if it’s required. I expect to be back before there’s much change in the situation; but I’ll call at Nanaimo, where you can wire me if anything turns up during the three days it may take us to get there.”

“I suppose there’s no use in my saying anything more now; but I can’t help pointing out that, as head of the concern, you have a certain duty to the shareholders which you seem inclined to disregard,” Carroll remarked.

“I’ve no doubt their interests will be as safe in Nairn’s hands as in mine,” Vane rejoined.

“I fail to see why ye could no have let the whole thing stand over until the spring,” said Nairn. “The spruce winna run away.”

“I’d have done so had it been a few years earlier, but the whole country is overrun with mineral prospectors and timber-righters now. Every month’s delay gives somebody else a chance of getting in ahead of me.”

“Weel,” said Nairn resignedly. “I can only wish ye luck, but should ye be detained up yonder, if one of ye could sail across to Comox to see if there’s any mail there, it would be wise to do so.” He waved his hand. “No more of that; we’ll consider what tactics I had better adopt in case of delay.”

An hour had passed before they went down to join the guests who were arriving for the evening meal. As a rule, the Western business man, who is more or less engrossed in his occupation, except when he is asleep, enjoys little privacy; and his friends sometimes compared Nairn’s dwelling to the rotunda of an hotel. The point of this was that people of all descriptions who have nothing better to do are addicted to strolling into the combined bazaar and lounge which is attached to many Canadian hostelries.

As it happened, Vane sat next to Evelyn at table; but after a quiet reply to his first observation, she turned and talked to the man on her other side. Since the latter, who was elderly and dull, had only two topics – the most efficient means of desiccating fruit and the lack of railroad facilities – Vane was somewhat astonished that she appeared interested in his conversation, and by and by he tried again. He was not more successful this time, and his face grew warm as he realised that Evelyn was not inclined to talk to him. Being a very ordinary mortal and not particularly patient, he was sensible of some indignation, which was not diminished when, on looking round, Jessie Horsfield, who sat opposite, favoured him with a compassionate smile. He took his part in the general conversation, however, and the meal was over and the guests were scattered about the adjoining rooms, when, after impatiently waiting for the opportunity, he found Evelyn alone. She was standing with one hand on a table, looking rather thoughtful.

“I’ve come to ask what I’ve done,” he began.

Evelyn, who was not prepared for this blunt directness, felt disconcerted, but she broke into a chilly smile.

“The question’s rather indefinite, isn’t it?” she said. “Do you expect me to be acquainted with all your recent actions?”

“Then I’ll put the thing in another way – do you mind telling me how I have offended you?”

The girl almost wished that she could do so. Appearances were badly against him, but she felt that if he declared himself innocent she could take his word in the face of overwhelming testimony to the contrary, Unfortunately, however, it was unthinkable that she should plainly state the charge.

“Do you suppose I should feel warranted in forming any opinion upon your conduct?” she retorted.

“But you have formed one, and it isn’t favourable.”

The girl hesitated a moment, but she had the courage of her convictions, and she felt impelled to make some protest.

“That,” she said, looking him in the eyes, “is perfectly true.”

He looked more puzzled than guilty, and once more she chafed against the fact that she could give him no opportunity of defending himself.

“Well,” he said, “I’m sorry; but it brings us back to my first question.”

The situation was becoming painful as well as embarrassing, and Evelyn, perhaps unreasonably, grew more angry with the man.

“I’m afraid,” she said “you are either clever at dissembling or have no imagination.”

Vane held himself in hand with an effort, “I dare say you’re right on the latter point,” he informed her. “It’s a fact I’m sometimes thankful for. It leaves one more free to go straight ahead. Now, as I see the dried-fruit man coming in search of you, and you evidently don’t mean to answer me, I can’t urge the matter.”

He turned away and left her wondering why he had abandoned his usual persistency, unless it was that an uneasy conscience had driven him from the field. It did not occur to her that the man had, under strong provocation, merely yielded to the prompting of a somewhat hasty temper. In the meanwhile, he crossed the room in an absent-minded manner, and presently found himself near Jessie, who made room for him at her side.

“It looks as if you were in disgrace to-night,” she said, and waited with concealed impatience for his answer. If Evelyn had been clever or bold enough to give him a hint as to what he was suspected of, Jessie foresaw undesirable complications.

“I think I am,” he owned without reflection. “The trouble is, that while I may deserve it on general grounds, I’m unconscious of having done anything very reprehensible in particular.”

Jessie was sensible of considerable relief. The man was sore and resentful; he would not press Evelyn for an explanation, and the breach would widen. In the meanwhile she must play her cards skilfully.

“Then that fact should sustain you,” she rejoined. “We shall miss you after to-morrow; more than one of us. Of course, it’s too late to tell you that you were not altogether wise in resolving to go.”

“Everybody has been telling me the same thing for the last few weeks,” Vane informed her.

“Then I’ll only wish you every success. It’s a pity Bendle and the other man haven’t paid up yet.”

She met his surprised look with an engaging smile. “You needn’t be astonished. There’s not very much goes on in the city that I don’t hear about – you know how men talk business here; and it’s interesting to look on, even when one can’t actually take a hand in the game. It’s said the watchers sometimes see most of it.”

“To tell the truth, it’s the uncertainty as to what those two men might do that has been chiefly worrying me.”

“I believe I understand the position; they’ve been hanging fire, haven’t they? But I’ve reasons for believing they’ll come to a decision before very long.”

Vane looked troubled, “That’s interesting, but I ought to warn you that your brother – ”

“I’ve no intention of giving him away, and, as a matter of fact, I think you are a little prejudiced against him. After all, he’s not your greatest danger. There’s a cabal against you among your shareholders.”

She knew by the way he looked at her that he admired her acumen. “Yes,” he agreed; “I’ve suspected that.”

“There are two courses open to you; the first is to put off your expedition.”

The answer was to the effect she had anticipated. “I can’t do so, for several reasons.”

“The other is to call at Nanaimo and wait until, we’ll say, next Thursday. If there’s need for you to come back, I think it will arise by then; but it might be better if you called at Comox too – after you leave the latter you’ll be unreachable. Well, if it seems necessary, I’ll send you a warning. If you hear nothing, you can go on.”

Vane reflected hastily. Jessie, as she had told him, had opportunities of picking up valuable information about the business done in that city, and he had confidence in her.

“Thank you,” he said. “It will be the second service you have done me, and I appreciate it. Anyway, I promised Nairn I’d call at Nanaimo, in there was a wire from him.”

“It’s a bargain, and now we’ll talk of something else,” said Jessie, and she drew him into an exchange of badinage, until noticing that Evelyn once or twice glanced at her with some astonishment she presently got rid of him. She could understand Evelyn’s attitude and did not wish her friendliness with the offender to appear unnatural after what she had said about him.

At length the guests began to leave, but most of them had gone when Vane rose to take his departure. His host and hostess went with him to the door, but though he once or twice glanced round eagerly, there was no sign of Evelyn. He lingered a few moments on the threshold after Mrs. Nairn had given him a kindly send-off; but nobody appeared in the lighted hall, and after another word with Nairn he went moodily down the steps to join Jessie and Carroll, who were waiting for him below. As the group walked down the garden path, Mrs. Nairn looked at her husband.

“I do not know what has come over Evelyn this night,” she remarked.

Nairn followed Jessie’s retreating figure with distrustful eyes. “Weel,” he said, “I’m thinking yon besom may have had a hand in the thing.”

Then he turned, and they went in.

A few minutes later, Jessie, standing where the light of a big lamp streamed down upon her through the boughs of a leafless maple, bade Vane farewell at her brother’s gate.

“If my good wishes can bring you success, it will most certainly be yours,” she said; and there was something in her voice which faintly stirred the man, who was feeling very sore.

“Thank you,” he said, and she did not immediately withdraw the hand she had given him. He was grateful to her, and thought she looked unusually pretty with the sympathy shining in her eyes.

“You will not forget to wait at Nanaimo and Comox?” she went on.

“No,” said Vane. “If you recall me, I’ll come back at once; if not, I’ll go on with a lighter heart, knowing that I can safely stay away.”

Jessie said nothing further, and he moved on. She felt that she had scored, and she knew when to stop. The man had given her his full confidence.

CHAPTER XXV – THE INTERCEPTED LETTER

The wind was fresh from the north-west when Vane drove the sloop out through the Narrows in the early dawn and saw a dim stretch of white-flecked sea in front of him. Landlocked as they are by Vancouver Island, the long roll of the Pacific cannot enter those waters; but they are now and then lashed into short, tumbling seas, sufficient to make their passage difficult for a craft no larger than the sloop. Carroll frowned when a comber struck the weather bow and a shower of stinging spray whipped his face.

“Right ahead again,” he remarked. “But as I suppose you’re going on, we’d better stretch straight across on the starboard tack; we’ll get smoother water along the island shore.”

They let her go, and Vane sat at the helm, hour after hour, drenched with spray, hammering her mercilessly into the frothy seas. They could have done with a second reef down, for the deck was swept and sluicing, and most of the time the lee rail was buried deep in rushing foam; but Vane showed no intention of shortening sail. Nor did Carroll, who saw that his comrade was disturbed in temper, suggest it: resolute action had, he knew, a soothing effect on Vane. As a matter of fact, the latter needed soothing. Of late, he had felt that he was making steady progress in Evelyn’s favour, and now she had most unexplainably turned against him; but, rack his brain as he would, he could not discover the reason. That he was conscious of no offence only made the position more galling.

In the meanwhile, the boat engrossed more and more of his attention. It was a relief to drive her hard at some white-topped sea, and watch her bows disappear in it with a thud, while it somehow eased his mind to see the smashed-up brine fly half the height of her drenched mainsail. There was also satisfaction in feeling the strain on the tiller when, swayed down by a fiercer gust, she plunged through the combers with the froth swirling, perilously close to the coaming, along her half-submerged deck.

The day was cold; the man, who was compelled to sit almost still in a nipping wind, was soon wet through, but this in some curious way further tended to restore his accustomed optimism and good-humour. He had partly recovered both, when, as the sloop drove through the whiter turmoil whipped up by a vicious squall, there was a crash forward.

“Down helm!” shouted Carroll. “The bobstay’s gone.”

He scrambled towards the bowsprit, which, having lost its principal support, swayed upward, in peril of being torn away by the sagging jib. Vane, who first rounded up the boat into the wind, followed him; and for several minutes they had a struggle with the madly-flapping sail, before they flung it, bundled up, into the well. Then they ran in the bowsprit, and Vane felt glad that, although the craft had been rigged in the usual Western fashion, he had changed that by giving her a couple of headsails in place of one.

“She’ll trim with the staysail, if we haul another reef down,” he said.

It cost them some labour, but they were warmer afterwards, and when they went on again Vane glanced at the bowsprit.

“We’ll try to get a bit of galvanised steel in Nanaimo,” he said. “I can’t risk another smash.”

“You had better be prepared for one, if you mean to drive her as you have been doing.” Carroll flung back the saloon scuttle. “You’d have swamped her in another hour or two; the cabin floorings are all awash.”

“Then hadn’t you better pump her out?” retorted Vane. “After that, you can light the stove. It’s beginning to dawn on me that it’s a long while since I had anything to eat.”

By and by they made a bountiful if somewhat primitive meal, in turn, sitting in the dripping saloon, which was partly filled with smoke, and Carroll sighed for the comforts he had abandoned. He did not, however, mention his regrets, because he did not expect his comrade’s sympathy.

The craft, being under reduced sail, drove along more easily during the rest of the afternoon, and they ran into a little colliery town on the following day. There Vane replaced the broken bobstay with a solid piece of steel, and then sat down to write a letter, while Carroll stretched his cramped limbs ashore.

The letter was addressed to Evelyn, and he found it difficult to express himself as he desired. The spoken word, as he had discovered, is now and then awkward to use, but the written one is more evasive still, and he shook his head ruefully over the production when he laid down his pen. This was, perhaps, unnecessary, for, having grown calm, he had framed a terse and forcible appeal to the girl’s sense of justice, which would in all probability have had its effect on her had she received it. Though he hardly realised it, the few simple words were convincing.

Having received no news from Nairn or Jessie, they sailed again in a day or two, bound for Comox, farther along the coast, where there was a possibility of communications overtaking them; but in the meanwhile matters which concerned them were moving forward in Vancouver.

It was rather early one afternoon when Jessie called upon a friend of hers and found her alone. Mrs. Bendle was a young and impulsive woman from one of the eastern cities, and she had not made many friends in Vancouver yet, though her husband, whom she had lately married, was a man of some importance there.

“I’m glad to see you,” she said, greeting Jessie eagerly. “It’s a week since anybody has been in to talk to me and Tom’s away again.”